


What Makes Us Human

by IraBragi



Series: What makes us human [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (well they get there with the communication eventually), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Past Child Abuse, Pepper Potts Is a Good Bro, Tony-centric, my kink is respecting boundaries and good communication, past abusive relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IraBragi/pseuds/IraBragi
Summary: One day he glanced across the breakfast table and realized that he loved them.  These two alphas who were good and righteous, who made him want to be someone who could deserve their love.He didn’t make it to the toilet before he threw up everything in his stomach.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: What makes us human [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1418398
Comments: 4
Kudos: 330





	What Makes Us Human

**Author's Note:**

> This is the edited/updated version of the other story by the same name in this series. Feel free to read both but there are no major plot differences between the two and this one is a lot smoother to read IMO.

“Pathetic! You’re a Stark! Stark men don’t build failures!” A mess of copper and wires dangled from Howard’s left hand, the ever present glass of scotch sat clenched in his right. 

Tony could feel his lips begin to tremble. The prototype had been close, so close, another night and he would have had it finished... he knew he could have solved… A sneer twisted his father’s face as he threw the destroyed prototype against the far wall before turning back to Tony.

“Stupid. Worthless.  _ Omega _ .” Howard’s hand came up, and Tony hated that he couldn't hide the flinch. Instead of pain though, his father brushed grease stained fingers across his jaw. Hot breath, stinking of rage and whiskey, whispers across his cheek. 

“That’s all they're good for, omegas. Lay on their backs and take it.” Howard makes a gesture that Tony suposes must mean sex. “Alphas rule the world and omegas...” The sneer is back and it’s so much worse than the rage.

“So where does that leave you?” 

He never could learn to keep his mouth shut. Not even presenting as an omega last year had fixed that. Howard’s eyes glint dangerously, the broken project all but forgotten behind them. He might not be able to build a working robot but he can make Howard look at him. There’s power in that, Tony thinks. He held his head high, mirrors his father's sneer. 

“If alphas rule the world and omegas take it, what are betas good for?”

The only answer is Howard’s fist splitting his lip. 

From his gilt framed portrait on the wall Captain America silently watches the blood drip down Tony’s chin.

\-----------------

\-----------------

The music had been cranked up, straight past loud, well into the range of earsplitting, and the whole house stank of hormones and spilled liquor. It was enough to make anyone sober gag; luckily no one present qualified. 

It was his second semester at MIT. A tall blond alpha brings him cup after cup of something that tastes like paint thinner, and seems impressed when Tony knocks it back without complaint.

“I know what you want. Need a knot don't ya. Don't worry I'll give it to ya reeeeeeal good." They are upstairs now, in a bedroom that definitely doesn’t belong to either of them; Tony had never touched a football in his life and he was pretty sure the alpha whose hands were now down his pants wasn't the sports type either. More like parties and, apparently, scrawny geeks. 

"Fuck you're a tiny little thing. Gonna fuck you to pieces."

There’s something thrilling about being the center of attention for something that had nothing to do with his intelligence. It's almost enough to crowd out the feeling of liquor-clumsy hands. 

It was Rhodey who found him the next morning, hungover and trying to wash vomit off his shirt. The older boy didn't say a word, just steered him towards the shower then cruelly withheld coffee until after water. 

“You used protection right?” Tony had been so busy trying to will his head to stop pounding that he only just managed to squint confusedly at his friend.

“Hugh?” 

Rhodey's frown deepened.

“Sex, babies, birth control. Christ Tones, someone has given you the talk right?”

“I… sort of…?” Ana had said a few things when his cycles started and it’s not like Howard had hidden his stash of porn very well, but none of that had really been forefront in his mind last night.

Rhodey just sighed and finally passed him a cup of life giving coffey. Two days later the older boy informed Tony that he had an appointment at the student health center and dropped him off between classes. The Beta doctor had frowned and tutted and talked at length about “self respect” and a “future mate” but eventually he walked out with a packet of pills that he was already plotting to re-synthesize and improve. 

That night Tony found a couple of alphas who told him he was too young to fuck but were more than happy to let him buy them weed. Tony shared a couple of joints with them then found a beta with no such scruples. 

Later he couldn't decide if it was the ultimate rebellion against Howard or just proving the bastard right. 

\---------------

\---------------

Tony was studying for his biochem final when he got the call. Well, more accurately he had been compiling a list of all the mistakes he could find in the textbook. He heard the words “car accident” and “didn’t suffer” and there was probably more after that but he couldn’t really hear anything over the blood pounding in his ears. 

Thirty seven. That’s how many errors there had been in the textbook. 

\----------

The rest of MIT passed in a blur of alcohol and scientific breakthroughs. 

At twenty one he took over Stark industries with the oh-so-kind help of Obi. 

Merchant of Death. 

Playboy extraordinaire. Never turned down an alpha (or a beta, or that one time a pair of omega twins…) 

Privatized war. 

Afghanistan happened. 

Obi happened. 

SHIELD happens.

Someone pulls a Captain America out of the ice and a god comes to visit.

\-------------

_ “Big man in a suit of armor. Take that off and what are you?" _

Tony felt his smile go flat. Apparently you  _ really _ shouldn't meet your heroes. Cap was wrong though. Images of bloody sand and crushed circuitry come unbidden. No, Tony knew  _ exactly  _ what he was made of. 

Somehow knowing doesn't make it any easier to hear.

\--------------

Cap is the first face he sees when he opens his eyes after the wormhole. When his heart flutters Toney isn’t sure if it’s because the reactor is finally giving out or if it’s the way his head is being cradled in delightfully muscular arms. He hopes it's the former. 

\-------------- 

He invites the Avengers to live with him. Gives them toys, and a floor each, and state of the art training gyms. Sets it all up, modifies Jarvis' protocols so no one can disturb him, and stocks the workshop with protein bars. 

_ Remember who you are. Iron man yes, Tony Stark no. Remember your place. Remember the blood on your hands. Remember… _

\--------------

“What makes you think you’re so much smarter than everybody else! You can’t just mute your comm and go do the EXACT thing I just told you not to do!!!”

Steve is pacing the room, red in the face from shouting. Tony wonders if it even matters what specifically he did this time. It's not like they haven't had one of these shouting matches at least once a week since the helicarrier. 

It would be even more often but Steve hasn't yet stooped to breaking down the workshop door so Tony can still hide away and invent between missions.

Another part of his brain helpfully wonders if he'd rather have Roger fuck him over the conference room table or he could just shove the alpha against the door. 

Since neither of those lines of thought are acceptable, he pushes the red shades that he wears solely to annoy Steve and plasters on his best smirk. 

“Mostly the seven PHD’s and the multibillion dollar company.” Steve splutters to a stop mid sentence, and Tony gives his best faux innocent look. “That’s what makes me smarter than anyone else I mean. Sorry to disappoint you Capsical, but god made some of us pretty  _ and  _ smart.” He winks and pushes past Steve; maybe it’s his imagination but he almost thinks Steve is momentarily at a loss for words. 

\----------------------- 

\----------------------

“JARVIS please tell Tony that it’s his turn to pick the movie so he had better get up here before Clint tries to make us watch Frozen again. Also, we have Italian.”

Somehow a year had passed since the Avengers first assembled. So far they had foiled no less than five attempts to take over the world (or at least whatever general area said megalomaniacs fancied,) approximately a metric fuckton of AIM robots, three squid related battles, and that one time that Lokie opened a portal and unleashed a herd of unicorns on Times Square. And in between all that things were… good?

It shouldn’t work,  _ they  _ shouldn't work, but somehow mandatory SHIELD bonding exercises had turned into movie nights. Clint now wore a harness over his armor so Iron Man could catch him when he jumped off buildings  _ without  _ dislocating anything. Not to mention a reign of pranking terror via the air vents. Natasha had threatened his spleen until he showed her his recipe for tiramisu then brought him some the next time he got stuck in medical. (Not even her worst glare kept Thor from eating the other half of the pan though, and that was proof enough of his godhood in Tony's mind.) Banner even had the gall to put his name down as the co-author of a paper detailing their experiments on the potential application of nanotechnology for field surgery. The entire team came to watch them receive the award from Doctors Without Borders.

Even he and Steve had reached an... equilibrium. They still fought, shouting out the finer points of proper team discipline and acceptable self endangerment, but now, no matter what stunt Tony had pulled in the field, Steve never let him go more than eight hours in the shop without coming down to deliver a plate of sandwiches and play fetch with DUM-E. Not to mention the sparring-and-then-burgers not-dates that kept happening. 

(Tony maintained that the sparring was all Rogers's fault. Even if no one believed him when he insisted that Captain America was a  _ cheat.  _ It was just  _ unfair _ how he batted those big blue eyes and pulled the "I'm worried about how vulnerable you are without the suit Tony" card. In the face of that, frankly unpatriotic coercion, who could blame Tony for being weak?)

It was all very confusing. People tended to treat him  _ worse  _ as they got to know him, not  _ better.  _ There were moments when his chest felt so full of this - of laughter and late night hot chocolate, movies that were only watched so they could heckle the screen, and knowing that there was someone to have his back - of  _ them  _ that he thought it might burst.

After only a year of having them Tony wasn't sure how he would survive when they left him. He was even less sure that he would want to. 

\---------------

\---------------

Bucky Barns, aka the Winter Soldier, walked into the Avengers tower with a sniper rifle on his back and alarms shrieking ineffectually from every angle.

The assassin dutifully put his hands up at the behest of several terrified looking security guards, but when he spoke he was addressing the security camera. 

“WHERE IS STEVEN ROGERS?”

\------------

“He’s all I have left.” It had been Steve, a worried frown maring his otherwise perfect jaw, who came to plead his friend’s case. 

As if it had ever been in question.

The only thing stupider than the flash of jealousy that shot through Tony was just how much he wanted to reach out and smooth the frown off that beautiful face. Instead he made a mental note to have JARVIS refit the captain's floor for a second occupant and pasted on a grin. 

“Any friend of yours Mr. Stars and Stripes.” 

The dawning look of joy on Steve's face almost made up for the twisting spike of loss that worked its way through his gut. If he had ever wondered if the rumors were true - that Steve and his best friend were more than “brothers-in-arms,” well there was his answer. 

( _ So what?  _ The rational part of his brain hissed back.  _ Bucky could have never even been  _ born  _ and you would still be the last person that Captain America would choose. _ ) 

He must have hidden his internal struggle well enough though because Steve smiled like Tony had just handed him the sun.

“You’re a good man Tony. I… we… thank you.” He reached out and, for the briefest of moments, Tony held his breath. Imagined that Steve would hold him, could wrap those perfectly muscled arms around him and whisper in his ear how grateful he was, how he would  _ show _ him just how grateful he was tonight. Instead a large hand grasped Tony's houlder. 

“You ok there?” The concern looked so real it was almost better than the fantasy.

“Never better Spangles, never better.”

\--------------------

People being what they are, the history books decided that Peggy Carter must have been an omega and that Steve and Bucky were her alphas. Because  _ obviously  _ if two alphas had even a whiff of more-than-platonic leanings there had to be a nice soft omega involved to keep it all wholesome and righteous. 

Tony had snorted the first time he heard that one. If there had ever been an omega involved it certainly hadn't been Aunt Peggy. She had been a beta through and through. A _female bata_ who had made a career out of telling the biggest, most testosterone high, alphas in the room to sit down, shut up, and listen to her. Howard had been _terrified_ of her (and Tony lived for her visits.)

\-------------------

There were logistics of course. SHIELD, the CIA, the Military, and most definitely the press, all had a lot to say about the newly resurrected Cold war ghost. The parade of lawyers, psychologists, and dangerous looking operatives were politely (and then not so politely) turned away by a combination of Pepper and a lot of SI lawyers.

It turns out that being the world's oldest POW does grant you some legal protection. At least that was what Tony argued to an assembled group of US senators and Director Fury.

“Try to lock him up and I will personally see to it that you have the public relations nightmare of your life.”

There was a lot of grumbling and some not-so-vague threats but the smile that Steve gave him after Bucky’s case was officially closed due to “extenuating circumstances” was more than worth it. 

\-----------------

\----------------

“Stevie doesn't know that I’m here.”

One of these days Tony hoped that he would get used to living with super spies who could sneak into any room unnoticed and give poor unsuspecting engineers heart attacks, but it sure as heck hadn't happened yet.

“Crap Buckaroo, someone needs to put a bell on you!” It was only as he managed to get his heart rate back under control that the words actually sunk in. “What do ya mean Steve doesn't know? What’s going on?”

\----------------------

At first the ex-assassin had kept to himself. Hardly speaking even to Steve. Switching between barricading himself in fortified corners and disappearing so completely that it was only JARVIS' assurance that he was still in the building that kept Steve from launching a search party. It was somewhere between sad and deeply terrifying. 

Tony being Tony, he had been building robotic arms in his mind since the minute he decided that the glaring man in front of him was only 65% likely to kill him in the imminent future. 

It was still almost three months before the man in question materialized in the workshop, gestured towards the metal arm and muttered something that sounded like "please."

Then there had been the matter of the trigger words and seventy years of brainwashing. It had taken four psychologists before one managed to stick around for more than half a session, but the lady who did was honestly almost as scary as a super soldier herself, just with more feelings and worksheets. 

There was also the physical damage because, even with super-healing, repeated flash freezes were hell on the body. Lucky that was mostly fixed with time and copious amounts of food.

(Seriously, Tony had thought that  _ Steve  _ could eat. He watched Bucky down nine hamburgers, two pies, approximately three mountains of french fries, and then try to steal Nat’s milkshake. Nat, of course, had reclaimed the pilfered milkshake and darkly threatened to stab him if he tried it again. The psychologist was still working on the self destructive tendencies.)

While all this was going on Tony and Bruce as well as sometimes - when he and Bruce weren’t too busy glaring and sniping at each other - Stephen Strange were all working on what to do about Bucky’s arm. 

HYDRA’s tech was brutally effective. Tony could only stare at it with a kind of horrified awe. They had wired the damm thing into his  _ spine _ . The prosthetic clearly showed the wear of seventy years of repairs and improvements. It also showed what Tony had suspected. It was causing Buck constant pain - exactly like it was designed to.

First they had to remove it and Bucky was adamant that we wouldn’t be sedated.

“Won’t hurt any more than putting it on” he growled. Both Tony and Steve had had quite a lot to say about  _ that _ , but ultimately it was beside the point. Even for a surgeon of Dr. Strange’s caliber it was rather difficult to do surgery on a twitching patient.

Eventually they worked out a compromise: They would use an epidural to numb him from the neck down and Steve would stay in the room the whole time. It still took them three tries. 

After they got it off the project returned to Tony. He needed to build something that had never been done before and do it lighter, better, and stronger than was actually physically possible. So basically a normal Tuesday. 

\------------------

“Well, he, umm” 

James Buchanan Barnes didn’t  _ squirm _ . He glowered, and stomped, and sometimes, usually after a grueling session with the therapist or when Tony had to go especially deep trying to convince his biological nerves to mesh with the new synthetic ones, his face would do a thing where it turn to stone while his eyes shimmered like he was trying to remember how to cry. (No matter how much Bucky gritted his teeth and told him to keep going Tony hated himself for doing it.) But a nervous, tongue tied,  _ squirming  _ Bucky… well Tony had not the faintest clue how to approach that.

“It’s not that he doesn't want you to know, it’s just…” 

Bucky’s hair had been a shaggy mop when he first arrived, as unwashed and rough as the rest of him (not that Tony had been  _ looking  _ or anything) but now he was growing it out. It hung softly over his cheek bones and almost kissed his hard, sculpted shoulders…  _ Focus Tony, and get your mind out of the damm gutter _ .

The taller man squares his shoulders like someone about to take a hit. 

“Look Steve wants to protect you, and hell, I would give anything to just pretend I can’t remember but,” There’s another sigh and Bucky's hands twitch like he wants Tony to come closer then but then pulls back. “You’ve been so good to me un’ Stevie. What with this place, and going to bat for me, and now this arm...” He gestures across the room towards the almost finished prosthetic that should give him back enough sensation and dexterity to, well, to do whatever he wanted. “I just couldn’t take all that and not tell you.” He nods and JARVIS begins projecting something onto the shop wall.

It’s security footage. The film is silent and grainy but the road is familiar and the car… there's a ball of flame and a man in dark clothing and a mask jumps impossibly far to land on the hood.

The world tilts and time freezes. Suddenly he is sitting on the floor because his legs have given out and JARVIS has stopped the footage. Not like it matters, Tony knows the rest.

“I’m so, so, sorry.” The super soldier's voice is rough and distantly Tony wonders what he is supposed to say now. Bucky solves the problem for him by continuing to speak.

“I can leave, you never have to see me again, I  _ swear. _ ”

Everything sounds distant and he really hopes that this isn't the start of another panic attack. 

“... you’ve done so much and I had to tell you...”

\------------------

Falling in love with Bucky Barns had been a surprise.

It wasn’t like it was with Steve; Tony was pretty sure that he had been hating, and loving, and hating that he loved, that damm man since he was ten years old. Then the real deal had barreled into his life and somehow reality was even better than the fantasy.

With Bucky it had been long nights of working on the arm while the man sat motionless but tacked his every move with razor sharp eyes. It had been turning on ACDC for the first time and watching Bucky’s eyes light up. Or the first time Bucky came to the workshop instead of disappearing after a hard therapy session. 

“It’s hard with Stevie, ya know? Love that jerk, but sometimes I see him looking for… for  _ him.  _ And I’m not that fella any more… and then he hates himself for wanting it.”

It was the stupid little things they laughed over together; the bot's latest fuckups, how Steve could knit a mean sock before the serum, but was so clumsy with the needles that he couldn't even manage a scarf after, how little Tony failed biology when he was thirteen becasue he acsedentally created a chemical so noxious that not only did the building have to be fumigated, the lab had to be rebuilt.

And the not so stupid things.

How Bucky's voice broke when he talked about the chair, about living with the fear that all this could be taken from him with the flick of a switch. Tony told how his mother would tell him the story of meeting his father. A match arranged when she was young and Howard, presumably, actually cared. 

"You're so pretty" she'd croon, fingers brushing delicately over his scalp, "so, so, pretty. Soon, no alpha will be able to resist you. I promise."

There was time Steve made them an honest-to-goodness picnic, with a basket and everything, then dragged them up to the roof to enjoy it. It was sunny and warm, they had laughed themselves silly, stuffed themselves on potato salad and pumpkin pie, and Tony had nodded off at some point with the two alpha's voices still washing over him. 

It was slow and gentle and so very obvious that Tony had no idea. Until one day he glanced across the breakfast table and realized that he loved them both. These two alphas who were good and righteous, who made him want to be someone who could deserve their love. 

He didn’t make it to the toilet before he threw up everything in his stomach.

\-------------------

“Tony, Doll, can you hear me?” Bucky was crouched down, he looked concerned but kept an arms length away. Probably didn’t want to deal with a panicking omega. 

“Did he scream?” Confusion flashed across Bucky's face then something akin to horror. 

Tony thought about his father. A man who saw farther than anyone else and hated the rest of the world for not living up to his vision. He thought about his mother, how she always thought that if she could just be quiet enough, small enough, good enough, then maybe Howard would remember that she existed. He thought about spilled alcohol and silent pictures of the only person who his father had ever actually loved. A desperate giggle crept into Tony’s throat.

“When you killed him, please tell me that he screamed.” The laughter worked its way up his throat and into his mouth until he doubled over with it.

Poor Bucky, he looked downright panicked. Some part of his brain that was still semi sane knew that this was wrong. This wasn't how you respond to finding out that you have fallen hopelessly in love with your parent’s killer. 

Hell, Bucky probably expected him to rage, to unleash Iron man against him. Maybe he even saw it as penance; let the son of the man you murdered have his revenge. Steve was probably convinced that Tony would kick them out of the tower. Or maybe go supervillain. It made sense, Steve would do anything to protect his lover, who was Tony in comparison to that?

Tony gets his feet under him. This is important. He closes the gap between himself and the alpha. Presses a hand to the flesh and metal shoulder, doesn't let himself think about how warm the muscles feel under his palm.

“That wasn’t you. It was never you.” And then because Bucky is getting that “almost going to cry” look in his eyes (and because Tony is a selfish, selfish, man) he adds “come on, lets get that new arm squared away.”

He doesn't see the look of wonder on Bucky's face, or notice Steve watching from the doorway, tears rolling down his cheeks. He totally misses the look they share, equal parts tender and hopeful. 

\------------------

\-------------------

The first time Tony found a gift on his workshop counter he assumed that it was some sort of prank from Clint. Consequently he had U lift the lid off, braced for glitter or an ink explosion, only to find something much more confusing.

There, nestled under gold tissue paper, was a tie pin and matching handkerchief. The cloth was silky against his fingers, the edges delicately hand stitched. It was red, not the hot rod red of the armor (not that he  _ couldn't  _ rock that too) but a deeper, richer shade that would perfectly accent anything Armani could dream up. The pin was gold, set with a single square cut ruby. It was a perfect match to the handkerchief. Together they were masculine and omega-delicate and the just-the-right-side of loud that was patently Tony Stark.

It was a wonderful gift, and that was… odd. It wasn’t his birthday or even a holiday that might suggest gift giving. There was no name on the package. Not that many people gave him gifts anyway, why give a gift to the man who already has everything? 

It must have been Peper. They might have broken up but she did still occasionally give in to her alpha instincts to dress him up… or to bribe him into doing something unpleasant. He made a mental note to ask her what she wanted then promptly forgot about it entirely. 

Later that evening when he flopped down on the sofa, (after pushing past Bruce, seriously that man took up more space than the Hulk sometimes) the super soldiers exchanged odd looks that morphed into strangely unhappy frowns. Natasha had to pretend to be  _ very _ preoccupied with her mug of tea to hide a grin. 

The second and third gifts were a silver pendant delicately engraved with patterns reminiscent of circuitry and a corded leather bracelet with two enamel beads on it - one red, one blue. The pendant could be added to the leather band to lay nestled between the beads.

Tony stared at the two boxes for what felt like an eternity, trying to piece together what the hell was going on. Just as he was considering asking JARVIS, privacy protocols be dammed, the pieces clicked into place. 

\------------

As with all mixed-gender groups, it had taken some time for the Avengers to get a feel for how their various secondary genders would interact.

Nat was an apha and Clint was an omega who tended to pass as beta. In fact most of the team only caught on to this fact, as well as the part where they were apparently  _ sleeping together _ after a rather traumatizing incident that involved the creation of a strict "absolute no hanky panky during movie night" rule.

(Tony also may or may not have spent a week trying to create actual brain bleach before Pep convinced him that there were too many ethical issues for it to be viable. He still hadn't quite forgiven her for laughing. )

Thor had no secondary gender and was quite confused by the whole idea. Tony wasn’t sure who had gotten the job of explaining the birds and the bees to their resident God but he was fervently glad that it had not been him. 

Bruce’s alignment was… strange. He smelled like a beta but from what Tony had been able to dig up had been an alpha before the experiment. The Green Guy, on the other hand, seemed to exhibit pheromones from all three genders but no heat or rut cycle. Since Bruce completely shut down at the mear suggestion of researching anything related to the Other Guy (and Tony supposed he couldn’t really blame the man) there didn’t seem to be any answer forthcoming. 

Steve was of course the best smelling alpha that Tony (and pretty much any other red blooded omega and quite a few betas) had ever encountered. And then Bucky came back and of course his scent was a perfectly smoky-sharp counterpoint to Steve’s warm and sweet. 

Some days it was all Tony could do to keep himself from curling up in their laps and rubbing his face… and those were  _ exactly  _ the kinds of thoughts he did not need. 

Nobody had ever accused Tony Stark of having too much self control, but after living with the super soldier duo for this long he thought that he deserved a goddamn gold medal. 

\-----------

Except apparently not, because someone had figured out his little (giant, enormous, colossal) crush - and decided to mock him for it. 

Humiliation and anger warred in his gut. There was no reason to be cruel! It's not like he could help it, and he was doing his absolut best to not let it affect the rest of the team. Why couldn't that be enough?

The boxes didn't even make a satisfying thunk as he hurled them into the garbage.

\-------------

For the next two weeks Tony kept to himself as much as possible, outright avoided the objects of his unrequited affections, and much to his relief no more packages appeared. 

It had been a horrible day. Running from meeting to meeting and reading contracts till his brain ached. Everyone wanted something, investors, the board, a reporter who Peper apparently owed a favor to. And he was trying his best to be good too; charming investors, calming the board, he even flirted with the reporter - at least until he realized that the beta’s eyes were not on him but Pepper’s pencil skirt and perfectly coiffed hair. 

After the interview he watched as Pepper’s hand lingered for just a fraction of a second longer than needed on the woman's arm while escorting her out.

Interesting. 

He knew that Pep didn’t have a gender preference for her partners, but it had been quite a while since she had seemed interested in anyone. He made a mental note to do a background check on the reporter just to be safe.

He was exhausted by the time he got back to the tower and collapsed onto the workshop sofa, only to leap back up again when his butt made contact with something decidedly un-sofa shaped. He didn't even try to stifle a growl as he rubbed his offended ass. He  _ really  _ wasn't in the mood for games. 

“JARVIS pull up the video footage. I want to know who thinks they can get away with this little stunt.”

Perhaps sensing his creator's mood, the AI offered no commentary before pulling up the relevant footage.. Sure enough that was a hand that flashed across the screen, and not a second later, the rest of the body came into view. For the second time in as many weeks Tony felt all the air leave his lungs. 

“Audio J." He pushes the word past numb lips. 

“We have to do this right Buck. Treat him proper.” It was Cap speaking and although he's out of fame there is no question of who he is speaking to. 

“He didn’t like the first ones, what makes you think…”

Tony’s eyes snap over to the neatly wrapped package, still sitting where it fell. 

“Pause feed.” With trembling fingers Tony pulls off the lid. 

It’s a watch; a beautiful, gleaming, stunning watch. It's all sleek lines and shining platinum. Tony is a good judge of jewelry and there is no doubt in his mind that this is custom made. Custom made and  _ very  _ expensive _. _

It catches light as he examines it from every angle. There is no inscription, and no stones or overt decoration, but no one with eyes could miss that it belonged nestled on his wrist next to his very best suits. It is exquisite.

Very carefully Tony lays it back down in it’s box. 

“They delivered all the gifts didn't they J?” He doesn't really need to specify which ones. 

“Yes sir, and if I may sir…”

“Not right now J... Can you close up in here please?”

“Yes sir.” He swears the AI sounded nervous. Welcome to the party. With still shaking hands he scoops up the box and heads for the elevator.

JARVIS doesn't bother to ask for a floor number.

\--------

Tony thought that Sunset Bain might just be the perfect alpha. Captain of the women’s rowing team, a bioengineering major, and heir to her own corporate fortune. She had a sharp, driven, focus that made Tony go weak at the knees when it turned to him. They had been flirting on and off for weeks before a package appeared in front of his dorm. 

James stumbled over it then tossed it onto Tony's bed and he had simply assumed that it was more parts for his robotics project. Except when Tony tore into the expensive looking paper it was a womans jersey, number thirty-four, with no note. Tony had looked at it blankly until Jame’s laughter filled the room.

“Oh, someone has it bad for you! Who’s the lucky alpha?” His returning blank stare must have rubbed his friend the wrong way because his next words were edged with annoyance. “Seriously man, I know you are doing your best to sleep your way through the whole school, but you could at least give them a shot. It would do you good to find someone who will buy you dinner first!” 

It was his third year at MIT and the first time an alpha had given him a courting present. Two days latter they had gone on their first date.

Sunset had been wonderful. Brilliant, beautiful, and confident. For the first time there was someone other than James who wanted him for more than his money or a quick fuck (although they certainly did plenty of that too.) And through it all the gifts kept coming. Books, trinkets, jewelry. She bought him diamond stud earrings, then when he shyly confessed that his eres weren’t pierced, she had dragged him at a shop that very afternoon, laughing when he almost passed out at the sight of the needle. More than a little ironic really, considering the amount of body-modifying surgery he sported these days. 

It had been a fairy tale, right up until it wasn’t.

The rest of the story could be found easily enough in the newspapers: a mysterious break in at Stark Industries, so clean that it seemed like it must be an inside job. Stolen documents, and a scant year later a new corporation opening with all too familiar designs. Even Sunset’s smirk when she airily told a reporter that, “we had fun and all but, well you know, he isn’t exactly the kind of omega you marry.” Both she and the reporter had laughed and Tony had flown to Paris that evening. The next thing he remembers was crashing a stolen Jag into the Eiffel tower.

\-------------------

“Tony! It’s good to see you!” Steve's tone was overly bright. Behind him Tony could just make out Barnes. Well that would make this efficient.

“What is this?” He tried to make his voice flat and hard, probably failing by a mile.

“It’s just a little something we thought you would like Doll.” Barns wrapped an arm around Steve's waist causally and motions for Tony to join them. Tony doesn't let himself follow. 

“Why are you giving me presents?” Now both the alphas look concerned.

“We ah, well, it’s just that we’d like…” 

Steve “I can look a charging tank in the metaphorical eye” Rogers was blushing. It really should not be  _ cute.  _ Barns seems to agree because his eye roll was decidedly fond when he cuts in.

“We’re trying to court you Doll, if you’ll have us that is.”

\-----------------

Alpha pairs courting a single omega was not unheard of, even back in the forties. There were plenty of pseudo-science about how having two alphas in a relationship was even good for society - something about more protection for the nest, and better societal bonds. 

Personally Toney suspected that it had a lot more to do with the fact that alphas outnumber omegas and that no one really wanted to get between  _ two  _ possessive alphas and their property. 

Of course, it wasn’t the forties any more. Legally speaking omegas had the same rights as everybody else; they could get a divorse, work outside the home, even serve in the military. Just look at him, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist, and now Iron Man - a real modern omega.

Except that didn't really change anything. 

\-----------------

“No?” Bucky squinted like he didn’t understand what he just heard and the smile on Steve's face froze then shattered.

“You heard what I said. I’m sorry I didn’t know who the first presents came from. Hell, I didn't even think… anyway, I will have them returned to you as soon as possible. I’m sure that…”

_ Stop babbling Tony _ . He snapped his mouth shut, placed the box on the dresser, purposely avoided looking at the king size bed, with it’s rumpled sheets and soft pillows. Neither of the other men said a word. When he turned away the hall looked as long as a stadium. 

“I’m sorry.” Tony was almost at the elevator before he let the words slip from his throat, pathetic and far too quiet for even a super soldier to hear.

\----------------

Tony handled having his heart ripped out of his chest (again) with predictable restraint and poise. After a week the avengers call in the big guns and sic Pepper on him. She took one look at the trashed workshop, various empty liquor bottles, the bots nervously beeping, Tony all but passed out on the sofa, and shook her head.

“Get up. You are going to shower, brush your teeth and then we will eat and you will tell me what in god’s name is going on.” 

It is a testament to the force of nature that is Virginia Potts, that forty-five minutes later they are both sitting in his suite, drinking something that tasted like coffee and kale mixed together, and that when Tony opens his mouth the whole story falls out.

\------------------

“A word gentlemen?” 

When he was with HYDRA Bucky had learned that the worst handlers were the ones who never seemed to get upset. There were plenty of guys who came in barking orders and knocking him around to “prove” their dominance. But a calm voice pleasantly explaining how he had fucked up was far more likely to end in the sort of things that still gave him nightmares. He was also convinced that, had she had ever decided to go evil, Ms. Potts could have taken over the world twice by now.

The three of them were in the communal kitchen. Steve had been poking dejectedly at the sandwich on his plate for over an hour and, after the third batch of cookies had gone up in smoke, Bucky had glumly joined him at the table.

“What can we do for you Ms. Potts?” Usually she would scold Steve for not calling her Pepper. When she pursed her lips and nodded instead Bucky knew they were done for.

“Does he know about his parents?”

“How did you kno-”

“Yes ma’am.” She chose to ignore Steve’s cut off protest and turned to Bucky.

“Why did you tell him?”

“He deserved to know.” That earned an inquisitively raised eyebrow.

“He deserved it or you felt guilty?”

\------------------

Pepper Potts was a smart woman. It was no fluke that she had transitioned from a personal assistant to the CEO of a multi billion dollar company with little more than a few grumbles from the board. After the company stock went up the next three quarters in a row, even the holdouts had accepted that she knew what she was doing.

She hadn't known though, not for sure anyway, until the (former?) assassin looked her in the eye and confirmed it. What she had been aware of was pieced together from old gossip, a few intelligence reports that someone had paid quite a lot of money to hide, and Tony’s complete silence on anything before he attended MIT. When you stopped being blinded by Tony’s outrageous behaviour and general inability to get anywhere on time, it wasn’t so hard to read between the lines. 

She had seen the man intoxicated enough to jump on the stage at Paris fashion week - naked - but she had never heard him say anything about his parents that wasn’t a carefully scripted press release.

Howard Stark had been by all accounts a brilliant man. He had already built an empire by the time 1942 rolled around, and throughout the war he became involved with increasingly classified projects. A few years after the war ended he married Maria, a slightly scandalous match for the time as she was an omega, and threw himself into the two projects that would define the rest of his life - building Stark Industries and searching for Captain America. 

What had happened between the elder Stark and the good Captain she couldn’t speculate on but, looking at the man studiously studying his shoes in front of her, she was inclined to believe that Steve had no idea the profound impact that he had indirectly had on the object of his affections. As her mother would say, “now this is a right mess.”

\---------------------

“It wasn’t right to let him put me up, and help with my arm, and all if he didn’t know.” It was a good answer. She turned to the other man.

“And you Steve, I assume you knew?” The man swallowed once more than looked her straight in the eyes.

“I didn’t want to tell him. I thought it would just hurt him.” She acknowledged that with a nod. It was a kind, if rather naive, sentiment. 

None of this was the real problem though. No, the real issue was sitting ten floors above them hopefully not drinking anything other than gatorade.

She had been protective of Tony long before they fell in love, and the fact that they didn't work together had never meant that she cared any less.

“Do you both really love him?” Two pairs of eyes snapped up and two heads nodded in vehement unison.

“He’s the best person I’ve met, he’s funny and brilliant, and he does so much…”

“- want to take care of him and show him that he doesn't have to be alone.”

It was kind of cute really. They really were gone on him. Pepper tapped her fingers against her lips and weighed her next words carefully.

“Then gentlemen I suggest you show him that respecting his decision will not impact your friendship. Mr. Stark has rarely had reason to think the best of people, perhaps you two can prove to him that you are an exception.” She let the silence stretch for a moment before adding, “And boys, I trust that I don’t have to spell out the utter destruction that I will rain down on your heads if you hurt him.” 

There was a flurry of “no ma’ams” and she watched as they scurried out of the kitchen with a grin. She really did hope they could get through to her emotionally challenged former boss.

Mentally she started a list of possible wedding venues; it never hurt to be prepared. 

\-------------------

\-------------------

Tony was pretty sure that he was going insane. Either than or the rest of the world was. 

It had been three weeks since he had turned the wonder twins down and two since Pep had dragged him out of his workshop and threatened to force his favorite coffee grower out of business if he drank one more drop of alcohol. For the first few days everything had gone pretty much like he expected. He had JARVIS tell him if a room was clear before he entered and he spent a lot of time in the workshop staring at the wall and very consciously  _ not  _ playing ACDC. Then the first sandwich appeared.

The first time he didn’t think too much about it. JARVIS alerted him to someone at the door but by the time he registered it, and actually looked up from his project, there was nothing at the door except a plate with a neat sandwich and some chips, no pickle, just like he liked it.

The next day there was a bowl of soup and the day after Steve came down with lasagna and a weirdly guilty look. Tony probably wouldn’t have let him in but J decided to get smart and opened the door after he vaguely waved in response to the alert. Cap asked about how it was going and after Tony stuttered something totally incomprehensible, had smiled and left him with the food. Tony had never heard a machine sound quite so amused as when he asked J to scan it for poison. The scan was negative, it tasted wonderful. After that it just kept happening.

When he told them no, the  _ absolute best  _ case scenario that he could imagine was cold professionalism in the field and a mutual avoidance out of it. More realistically he had expected to be kicked off the team and wake up to a slew of tabloids proclaiming that “Stark thinks he’s too good for the American Dream.” If he was lucky, maybe Bruce would stay around for the lab, but the rest of the team would certainly follow their fearless leader out of his tower and life. Instead… nothing really changed.

The next mission he ignored Cap’s orders and got between two civilians and an explosion. After the fight Steve had simply sighed and done his trademark, “you’re making me very sad” puppy dog eyes while walking him down to medical. After they cleared him (nothing broken, just bruised ribs and a knot on the back of his head) he wandered back to the debrief room. 

Everyone was sitting down except Bucky, who seemed to be pacing the perimeter of the room. When he saw Tony, the alpha stopped dead in tracks,his right hand twitching, and for a moment Tony thought that he was about to get hit (which was just unfair, his head  _ already _ hurt.) Instead the sniper abruptly turned and stomped out of the room. Everyone else pretended not to notice.

The first time he ventured into the kitchen at an hour that wasn’t 3 am it was Clint, of all people, who made a point of sitting next to him and jabbering on about something or other that flew totally over Tony's head. 

After that things settled more or less back into their old routines. It was bewilderingly not-awful and the whole thing made Tony want to do freefalls in the suite until his legs were shaking and his mind was too fuzzy with adrenaline to think about what it all meant. Instead he channeled his nerves into his day job. 

Judging by the look on Pepper’s face when he actually showed up for a meeting  _ early _ , he was going to have to break out the “I swear I’m not dying again” speech.

\----------------------

“Sorry to, um, bother you, but, I umm-” Bucky was standing across the common room from him and studiously looking everywhere but Tony. Luckily the meaning behind this somewhat garbled sentence was immediately clear; two of the panels on his arm were caved in, and the whole left side of his body had developed a tremor. People often claimed that Tony preferred his technological creations to real people and, whether that was accurate or not, the horror of seeing his tech in such a sorry state did go a long way to smooth over the initial awkwardness of being in the same room as Bucky.

By the time that Bucky was seated in his workshop, and the misfiring connection that was causing the tremor had been cut, Bucky seemed less likely to just tear the whole thing off and make a run for it. Whitch was about when Tony’s motormouth kicked in.

“What in god’s name did you  _ do  _ to this? Are those  _ finger marks  _ in the titanium plates that I  _ specifically  _ reinforced?” Bucky made a noncommittal grunt that turned into a wince when Tony pried a wire out of the matrix and started methodically reattaching the adjoining servos.

“I swear, if I didn’t know better I’d say you tried to get fresh with the Hulk.” The grunt sounded a lot more guilty this time.

“thought I could ‘least last a round” Underneath the hair falling across his face, Tony could just make out the red stain spreading up the alpha’s cheeks.  _ Bucky Barns _ blushing? Oh this was too good to let go. He pushed his chair back and spun to face the other man completely.

“Let me get this straight. You. You who are decidedly  _ not  _ green or ten feet tall, decided to go a few rounds with Hulk and Banner actually went for it?”

“Um… well Banner kinda didn’t… I mean it was more of an impromptu training session.” Now that was a diplomatic answer worthy of Tony himself. He spared a moment of guilt for how often he must make Pepper feel exactly like this, before pinning his still stammering patient with a decidedly unimpressed look. 

“So what you’re saying is that you terrorized Banner into hulking out, and then took him on single handed, which as you see turned out just peachy!”

“I had two hands at the beginning” That did it, the whole situation was simply ridiculous, scratch that,  _ his whole life was ridiculous _ , so Tony did the only thing he could think of and doubled over laughing.

He laughed until the hysterical feeling that he had somehow gotten sucked into an alternate version of reality passed and he was left with a sort of fatalistic zen. Regardless of what dimension he was in he needed to fix the mechanical wreck in front of him. Still chuckling, Tony picked up the discarded soldering iron and got back to work.

“You should just tell him yes. I won’t get in the way.”

Tony had just put the finishing touches on Bucky’s arm and was reattaching the outer plates when Bucky’s voice broke the silence of the shop.

“I mean it. It’s been good of you, everything you’ve done for me, and I know I didn't have any right to go courting you, not with the blood on my hands. But fuck, Stevie he loves you something fierce and he’ll treat you right…” Bucky finally looked away from the patch of floor he had been studying and Tony was slightly horrified to see tears streaking down the former assassin’s cheeks.

“Just think about it please? You deserve the best and Steve’s as good as it gets.”

The last panel slid into place with a quiet click and then there was silence in the workshop. By the time that Tony looked up from the screwdriver he was white knuckling, Bucky had slipped silently out the door.

\--------------------

Steve looked at the clock and frowned, it was two am and Tony still hadn’t gotten back to the tower. Well, technically he could have bypassed the comunal floor and gone straight to his room, but Steve knew the man too well to put much stock in that explanation. Tony was nothing if not predictable - drag him out of his shop and put him in a tux for the night and he would invariably come up with some fascinating new idea that he absolutely had to start tinkering with the moment he got home. Steve had been dragged along to enough charity functions and “political fundraisers” (or as he privately called them, ass kissing duty) that he knew the drill by heart. A month ago he had hoped that it would be himself and Bucky escorting Tony to these obligations, but that’s all they were now, just dreams. 

Worried about the wear and tear he was putting on the carpet Steve made himself walk to the massive set of windows and stare down at the city below. The view was breathtaking.

New York city had changed so much since the days when he and Bucky would hitch rides on street cars and brush the milk man’s horse for a peppermint apiece. People always expected him to hate it. To rant against the frivolity of modern life or something. Instead he found it soothing. Proof that something could change so much yet still endure. 

\----------------

It was three am before Happy pulled into the tower garage. Tony was exhausted, too many people, too much posing for cameras, and far, far, to many sharks all sizing each other up for blood. On top of all that he’d had an idea for how he could shave three seconds off the targeting time for his repulsor blasts and Pepper simply would not let him leave early to work on it. All-in-all a miserable evening. 

He nodded in response to Happy’s “goodnight sir.” and plodded toward the elevator. If he was lucky he could get a couple of hours of work in before anyone else was awake to bother him. With this thought firmly in his head he headed towards the common floor towards aiming for the coffee pot before he went back down stairs - only to stop dead as his eyes adjusted well enough to the semi darkness to realize that he was not alone. 

Standing in the darkened room, backlit by the window, Steve looked like a sketch torn from one of Michelangelo’s notebooks. Dim light played over his frame, accentuating every muscle and perfect line, coyly hinting at the power underneath. His shoulders were bowed, the kind of tired look he only got after an exhausting fight, and it jabbed at Tony’s heart. Before he could second guess himself he made his way across the room and flopped down on one of the couches.

“Long night contemplating the nature of existence Capsical?” To his credit, Steve didn’t startle, although with his super hearing he probably heard the limo when it pulled in.

“Just thinking things through.” The voice sounded so defeated that part of Tony wondered if he shouldn’t just retreat now, before he could make it worse. Before he could get his feet working though Steve kept talking.

“I wanted to apologize - .”

“What? Mr. “I’m right because my jaw is so square” admits that he’s wrong? Can I get a tape of this to play the next time you yell at me?”  _ Damm his compulsion to open his mouth at the worst possible times. _ Surprisingly a small smile played at the corner of Steve’s mouth before he grew serious again.

“It’s been almost three years since I woke up you know, and I don’t say this enough but thank you. I don’t know where I would be without you taking me in, taking all of us in really.” A pause, “For me it was just a few minutes between crashing the plane and waking up here. Sometimes I still think I’m going to see Peggy or one of the old guys coming around the corner, you know?” He whispers it like it’s a confession, some dark secret that he’s ashamed of. “And, well somewhere along the way I forgot that it hasn't been five minuts for everyone.” 

The confusion on Tony’s face was real. Of all the ways he expected this to go, this retrospection wasn’t one of them.

“I can see now what an awkward position I put you in, falling… um, trying to court you. I mean Christ!” Steve is up out of his chair and pacing now, lips twisted in a grimace, “I’m seventy years old, I knew your dad, hell, for all I know your dad told you about me!” 

This was the most swear words he had ever heard Cap use and it was honestly a bit scary. Plus, well, he wasn’t going to touch the whole “dad told you about me” thing with a ten foot poll.

“And that’s just the start of it. I had the gall to call myself the leader of the Avengers, to ask you all to follow me, and then start chasing you around like a schoolboy in his first rut! What I mean to say is, I’m sorry and I hope you can forgive me.” Steve slumped back down into a chair across from Tony and buried his face in his hands. For probably the first time in his life Tony Stark was confronted with the realization that he had absolutely no idea what to say.

The silence lasted for a long time. Finally Steve got up and walked toward the elevators, only turning back when he was almost out of the room.

“Look, maybe I’m getting this all wrong but, I mean, just because I made a mess of things… if you and Bucky and I was in the way... Well I don’t know two people who I’d be happier to see find happiness. He’s a good man Tony, and he would do anything for you.”

\-------------------

Somehow Tony did not make it down to his workshop that night. Instead he sat in the living room long after Steve left, staring at nothing, and desperately trying to make sense of the last few weeks. It was five am before he texted Pepper that he was sick with “ _ I don't wanna _ ” and would be skipping his meetings for the day. Then he staggered to his room and fell into a dreamless sleep.

It was noon before Tony woke up. Feeling surprisingly rested, and with the promise of a day of freedom ahead of him, it wasn’t long before he was out of bed and into his favorite t-shirt and jeans, then down to the garage. Nothing beat flying, but today he wanted to feel the wind in his face.

Hours later the city had given way to rolling hills and cloudless blue sky. Mile by mile the porsche ate up the road and roared through the corners. Driving had always come naturally to him. 

When he was eight Howard had announced that he was plenty old enough to learn to drive. The “lesson” had involved a lot of bourbon on Howard’s part and Tony, feet barely touching the pedals, trying desperately to keep the Cadillac on the driveway and out of the rose garden. When they had made the long loop around the property and parked back in front of the garage Howard had clapped him on the shoulder and announced loudly that he was, “not bad, not bad at all.” Jarvis, bless him, made sure that the scrapes and missing side mirror were fixed before Howard was sober enough to notice.

Tony shook his head and pushed aside the thoughts, today was too sunny a day for old memories. Besides he had enough problems in the here and now. Bucky and Steve wanted him. That much was now clear. It was everything else that didn’t make sense.

Once the idea that the whole thing was a cruel prank was disproven he could look back at the whole thing through a different lens. Steve and Bucky had gone through the trouble of courting him like a 40’s omega.

Bringing him sandwiches and bullying him into eating dinner with the team was proving that they could provide. The gifts that showed how well they knew his taste and how serious they were. Then finally, backing off and waiting for him to come to them. It was all picture perfect. Any proper omega would be swooning in their arms by now.

Except why? The 1940’s script was clear: two alphas wanted an omega to complete the white picket fence dream. But they had to know that he was never going to be  _ that _ . More to the point he was nothing that two gorgeous national heroes, not to mention truly good men should even  _ want _ .

Which came back around to the  _ why _ ? Why be interested? Why bother to court him? Why accept his rejection and even apologize like they were the ones who were wrong? 

Tony was aware that he was good looking. Even with the scars and the arc reactor, maybe they had just gotten tired of all that testosterone and decided that he was available and ostensibly willing. But then why bother with the whole courting thing? It wasn’t like he was known for saying no.

Which just left one other possibility - maybe they really thought they loved him. 

As soon as the thought formed in his head he knew it was the right answer. This was Steve they were talking about here,  _ of course  _ he would want to be the perfect gentleman. Bucky might sass his fellow septuagenarian about being old fashioned, he would go to hell and back for those he cared about. (Granted his methods were a tad _ enthusiastic  _ at times. For example putting a bullet in a handcuffed goon's leg for calling Natasha something rude.) It only made sense that they both would want to woo him properly.

Except Tony didn’t  _ do  _ love. He’d tried before; for Sunset, for Justin, for Pepper, and it always ended the same way. He always did something; a sarcastic comment, missed dinner, forgotten promise,  _ something  _ that would be the last straw. Then they would give him  _ the look _ . That specific look of disgust that meant the person was wondering how they had even managed to put up with him for this long. The one that led to screaming fights, too much alcohol, and finally a horribly silent apartment as it sunk in that - once again - he just couldn't be good enough to make someone stay. 

Which was why he had said no in the first place. They were too good for him, and he was too desperate for their love, for it to end in anything but a broken heart. And, as someone who was something of an authority on the subject, Tony really didn’t think he could survive his heart being ripped out of his chest again.

\----------------------- 

It was late by the time he got back to the tower. This time he bypassed the common floor entirely and made his way straight to his workshop.

“Lock it down J. I think it’s time to do some science!”

“Bit late for that Stark.” Natasha swung down from on top of the shelves with the grace that made people think “gymnast,” and completely miss the dagger between her fingers. Today though, instead of knife there was a smile and the wrench that he thought he had lost months ago.

“It was behind the shelves, you really should make a robot that can sweep.” He didn’t care what her SHIELD file said, Tony still wasn’t convinced that Nat wasn’t a mind reader. 

“Well technically that’s DUM-E’s job but…” At the sound of his name the little robot perked up and rolled over to his father. Tony fondly patted the bot’s head and quirked an eyebrow at the redhead who was now perched in the middle of his workbench. “And what brings you to my humble abode?”

She smirked right back. “I don’t know, why are you terrorizing every cop from here to New Jersey with your hell-on-wheels routine?”

He clutched at his heart with mock offence. “Hey I’ll have you know that at no time did I go above thirty miles over the speed limit! I was practically a saint!”

She shakes her head fondly and scoots over far enough to let him pull up the schematics and a mass of wires that would hopefully become the next greatest thing in Stark tech.

\---------------

The minutes blur and flow, _ if he just adjusted the output here and used the extra power there _ , he had almost forgotten about her when Nattasha’s voice breaks through the haze of science.

“I’m a godmother you know.” Her voice is quiet and solemn, far too serious to be a joke or a lie, even though her words go against everything he had ever known of her.

“Who?” She just looks at him, giving him time to work it out… “Clint has children?” She has the proud look of a teacher who’s pupil has gotten the answer right.

“Technically he’s their uncle, and don’t give me that look, he gave me permission to tell you. His exact words were, “God  _ anything  _ to get them to stop moping.” 

Tony’s pretty sure that his mouth is hanging open. Clint had a family and never mentioned it?  _ The Black Widow  _ had a family and  _ had  _ mentioned it? 

“Two of them by the way, a boy and a girl, and no I’m not going to tell you their names. You’ll have to ask Clint of you want to know.”

She pauses then takes a deep breath and keeps talking. “It’s no secret that Clint and I go way back. Us fucking was never the problem, work enough jobs together and that just kind of happens, but when I went against direct orders and went back to save his ass… Well that’s not supposed to happen. So I ran. Burned everything and went underground.” 

Tony wonders what it says about him that listening to an infamous assassin spill her guts while tossing a dagger from hand to hand like a fidget toy seems like a comparatively normal day.

“What brought you back?”

She shrugs, “I got a bite on an old contact, then there was an address at a dead drop, one that only one other person knew about.”

“So you decided that it was a trap and checked it out from a sniper’s scope?” Tony ventures. 

“Almost, I got my hands on satellite footage. Which, let me tell you, was not easy in those days!”

“Truly the dark ages,” he deadpans back.

“And what I found was a nice little farm house with a security system that put the pentagon to shame and two kids playing in the yard with Uncle Clint.”

“How long did it take you to say hello?”

“Three weeks before I got within a hundred miles of the place, another two before I actually knocked on the door.”

“Was it worth it?”

“No.” The word broke harshly over her tongue. “Nothing is “worth it.” It just  _ is _ . We just  _ are _ . And sometimes we make a decision to care anyway.” 

She tosses the knife with enough force to send it spinning toward the ceiling

“The older one is nine, last time we visited I taught him how to pick a lock while his mom rolled her eyes. The younger one is six, she loves climbing trees with her Aunty Nat.” 

The knife reaches its zeitheth. 

“If something happens to them,  _ if it happens because of me _ , I don’t think… well there isn’t much point after that is there?” 

She catches the knife. 

“But knocking on that door made me human in a way that no amount of wiping red out of my ledger could ever have.”

She slides off the bench and turns to face Tony fully. 

“I know that you’re terrified, and you’re telling yourself that you aren’t good enough, and that it’s just going to end in heartache and whatever else that brain of yours can come up with. But take it from me, pretending that you don't care won’t stop the pain, and the only thing that even begins to balance that pain is letting yourself have the love as well.” 

She places the dagger on the table between them and turns toward the elevator.. He’s seen her kill with that knife. He’s seen her make soup with that knife. It's a challenge and a promise all in one. 

He catches up with her just as the elevator door opens.

“Take us up J.”

“With pleasure Sir., Ms. Romanov.”

An AI really shouldn’t be able to sound that relieved.


End file.
